Written Before We Met

The Sound Of Rain Before Fajr

Rain tapped softly against the windows long before the adhan of Fajr arrived.

The Rahman house was still wrapped in darkness, quiet except for the ticking wall clock in the hallway and the distant sound of Qur'an recitation playing softly from Hajj abdulrahman's room.

Maryam sat on her prayer mat beside her bed, her cream-colored hijab loosely resting over her shoulders.
Her eyes were tired again not from lack of sleep but From overthinking.
A folded notebook lay open beside her, filled with duas written in messy handwriting.
Some pages were stained faintly from tears, 'Ya Allah, fix my heart. Ya Allah, don't let me drift away from You.
Ya Allah, make me among those You love." Maryam stared at the words for a long moment before closing the notebook gently.

The room smelled faintly of rain and oud. She stood for tahajjud slowly.
"Allahu Akbar."
Her voice came out almost like a whisper.

Outside, thunder rolled quietly through the sleeping city.

Maryam recited trembling verses she had memorized years ago as a child beside her father. Back then worship felt easier and lighter. Now every act of worship felt like holding onto something while standing at the edge of a cliff. Halfway through prayer, her chest tightened again,That familiar ache. The fear that perhaps Allah was disappointed in her no matter how hard she tried.

After salam, she remained sitting on the prayer mat silently. Then finally-
The tears came, Quiet tears.
The kind nobody notices.
"Ya Allah..." she whispered shakily.
"I'm trying."
Her hands trembled as she raised them higher.
"I know I'm not perfect... but please don't leave me to myself."
A sudden knock startled her.

"Maryam?" her mother's gentle voice called from outside. Are you awake, habibti?

Maryam wiped her face quickly.
Yes, Ummi.
The door opened slightly.
Umm Maryam peeked inside wearing her prayer gown, her tasbeeh still wrapped around her fingers.
"You've been awake long again."
Maryam forced a small smile.
"I couldn't sleep."
Her mother sighed knowingly before walking inside.
"You think too much."
Maryam lowered her gaze because it was true.

Umm Maryam sat beside her on the prayer mat and brushed a loose strand of hair behind her daughter's ear lovingly.
"There's something I forgot to tell you yesterday."

Maryam's stomach tightened immediately.
Whenever mothers said sentences like that before Fajr, it usually meant stress.

"The guests coming tomorrow..." Umm Maryam began carefully.

Maryam already felt panic creeping into her chest.
"The family is well known."
Silence.
"And the man..." her mother continued softly, unable to hide the hope in her voice.
"He's an ustadh."

Maryam froze.
An ustadh?
Her mind instantly filled with terrifying thoughts.
A religious man.
A respected man.
Someone knowledgeable.
Someone surely deserving of a woman better than her.
Someone who would expect perfection.

Her throat tightened painfully.
"Ummi..."
"Yes?"
"What if I disappoint him?"
Umm Maryam's expression softened immediately.
"Oh, Maryam."
She held her daughter's hand gently.
"You always fear that you are not enough for people."
Maryam looked down silently, Because it was true. She feared disappointing Allah. Her family. Everyone.
Even strangers.

Her mother smiled faintly.
"A good man does not look for perfection."
Then after a pause, she added quietly:
"He looks for sakinah."
Peace.
The word settled deeply into Maryam's chest.
Before she could respond, loud footsteps suddenly echoed through the hallway.

Then
"WHO FINISHED THE BREAD?"
Yusuf's voice thundered through the house dramatically.
Maryam blinked.
Her mother sighed instantly.
"Your brother."
Seconds later, Hafsah burst into the room laughing.
"It wasn't me this time!"
Behind her came Yusuf, holding an empty bread bag with betrayal written across his face.
"You people are criminals," he declared. "Actual criminals."

Maryam laughed softly for the first time that morning.
Yusuf paused immediately after noticing her swollen eyes.
His expression changed.
"You cried again?"
Maryam looked away quickly.
Hafsah sat beside her dramatically.
"She always cries. She cries during duas, after duas, before duas"
"Hafsah," Umm Maryam warned.
"What? I'm just saying she's emotional."
Yusuf narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
"Why were you crying?"
"Nothing."
"That means it's something."
Maryam shook her head while trying not to smile. Despite his dramatic personality, Yusuf had always noticed when she was hurting. Even before she spoke.
Then Hafsah gasped suddenly.
"WAIT."
Everyone looked at her.
"The proposal!"
Maryam nearly buried her face into her hands.
Yusuf frowned immediately.
"What proposal?"
Their mother stood up calmly.
"We were going to tell you after Fajr."
"No," Yusuf replied instantly. "Tell me now."
Hafsah grinned mischievously.
"It's an ustadh."
Yusuf stared blankly for two seconds before laughing once.
"Astaghfirullah. Absolutely not."
"Yusuf," Umm Maryam warned again.
"What? Those overly serious religious men scare me.

Maryam shook her head helplessly while Hafsah laughed harder.
But deep inside her chest...
Fear remained.
Because somewhere in this city was a man she had never met.
A man her future might already be tied to by qadr.
And she wondered
Would he still choose her if he saw all the broken parts she hid from everyone else?